When Ron heard their Dad start talking about Mad-Eye Moody, it was very hard not to react. Thinking of all that Moody went through - not even how he went out, but just what had happened to him over fourth year - Ron found his mind going into overdrive, thinking and plotting about ways he could stop it from happening: expose Barty Crouch Jr. (maybe publicly so Fudge couldn't deny it?), or tell Dumbledore about Crouch, or even help the real Moody escape...
When Charlie and Bill started hinting about the Tournament (but refusing to explain), he knew it was stupid, but Ron found himself so irritated, he couldn't stop himself.
"You're talking about the Triwizard Tournament, aren't you? It's going to be hosted at Hogwarts, because it's being started up again," for no good reason, he couldn't help sending to Younger-Ron, bitterly, "but this time with new safety restrictions?" he said, bluntly. Safety measures that don't work..and, really, I should be calling it the...Quadwizard Tournament, shouldn't I? He sent those thoughts to Younger-Ron as well.
Q-Quadwizard Tournament? Wait, why? Younger-Ron sounded confused, which confused Ron, because he thought he had already explained this.
Remember? I thought I already told you, Crouch Jr. tampered with the Goblet of Fire - or maybe will tamper with, I don't know when he did it, except obviously it was before the judging - so that it would pick Harry no matter what, for the plan of resurrecting Voldemort?
Stop - saying - his name!
Ron mentally sighed. It's not even his actual name... Still, his younger self seemed upset, so he let it go. The point is... a lot of people think Harry tried to enter himself- which made the other schools mad, that Hogwarts was getting two champions, especially one who was underage, and-
"Ron? Are you listening?" Bill said, sounding...odd. "I was just asking, how did you know about...all of that?"
Fuck. Bloody. Fucking. Hell. He'd really damn well screwed it up this time. Everyone was staring at him, and that was starting to freak him out. Merlin, he really needed a way to fix this, fast... Younger-Ron wasn't going to like it, but...
To his younger self, he sent, Hey, can you answer this one?
No WAY! Why should I have to answer for the mess YOU made?! You take it-
Look, you'll just - make it less suspicious? I'll owe you a favor, just hurry-
FINE. "Um - err - I..." Younger-Ron seemed lost for words, and Ron was just beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake, when Younger-Ron managed out, "I...guess maybe I heard it from some gossipy Ministry workers at the Cup?"
Ron and Younger-Ron glanced at the others' faces, and, fortunately, they seemed to buy it. Both Rons relaxed.
You'd better do my homework now, Younger-Ron sent.
I'll do at least part of it, Ron sent back. He did owe the kid a favor, after all.
As they boarded the Hogwarts Express, his younger self stayed in control while Ron sat in the mental backseat. This time, the train ride turned out to be a peaceful one. Other kids, like Seamus, Dean, and Neville, came by and joined in chatting later.
It was so peaceful, in fact, that Ron's good mood continued even through them trudging out in the rain, or getting soaked by Peeves (though younger-Ron felt differently)...
Then Hermione, looking at the staff table, with its empty seats, asked, "Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"
And suddenly Ron was immensely grateful that younger-Ron was still in control, because Ron didn't know what he would done in reaction.
Damn, Crouch hadn't even entered yet, but Ron still couldn't stop his mind from reeling, couldn't stop thinking about him impersonating Moody, and all the destruction that Crouch was going to - all that Crouch had already caused... Crouch, with his damn lesson with the fucking Unforgivable Curses... Crouch, doing everything to get Harry to win... Crouch succeeding in his plans in bloody bringing back Voldemort, then, according to Harry, telling everything - but then bloody useless cowardly Fudge had Crouch Kissed when they could have stopped this all at the DAMN START-
Um- Older-Me? Are - are you okay? It was thoughts being sent, not actual words out loud, so he couldn't be sure, but his younger self sounded...worried.
Ron started taking deep breaths... then realised that wouldn't work because he was just there mentally and not in charge of the body... oh Merlin, he was panicking now... no, waiting, breathing exercises, what was that one they told him about?... Inhale four, hold seven, exhale eight... Ron repeated this a few times, and slowly started to feel himself calm down...
I'm...I'm fine now, he sent, trying to send feelings of calm and reassurance as well.
Are you sure? Because you seemed...pretty worked up...
Ron tried to explain better: I'm fine now, it's just that, Crouch was - is - awful, and everything that he did, it just...all came back to me, and I just - I was just, taken by surprise, but I'm okay now. Don't worry about it.
Okay... Younger-Ron sounded reluctant, but, oh well. The Sorting would start soon, that should take his mind - take both their minds - off the topic.
And sure enough, the Sorting did take his mind off the topic, but not in the way he expected. When the hat sorted a "Baddock, Malcolm!" into "SLYTHERIN!" Ron was startled to see Fred and George hissing at Malcolm as he sat down. For Merlin's sake, the kid had only just joined - and was only 11, anyways! Ron almost wanted to go and say something, but, god, what?
For better or for worse, though, with Younger-Ron still in control, nothing happened, and no one except the two of them knew how Ron had just reacted. Ron tried to shake off the nagging feeling that he was being a coward, and just mentally focus on the rest of the sorting, but, by the time "Whitby, Kevin!" became a Hufflepuff, and the Sorting finally ended, he had to admit he hadn't quite managed it.
Clang.
Hermione had knocked over her goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of it orange, but Hermione paid no attention.
"There are house-elves here?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at Hogwarts?"
Oh, Merlin, it was starting already. Ron, only vaguely aware of Nick replying obliviously - and, oh great, now Hermione was getting more outraged - internally groaned, remembering what had happened last time around... Fuck it, he couldn't just watch this unfold the exact same way all over again...not if he had something to say about it.
Internally cringing at the sight of Hermione pushing away her plate, Ron couldn't take it anymore.
He seized control to speak up, and -wait, he should probably approach this more...delicately? Than he had last time? Hm...
So he swallowed the food Younger-Ron had been chewing, and then said, "Hermione, you have a point-" everyone, especially Hermione, liked to be told they were right- "and those are problems, problems that we...should be concerned about, but - not eating isn't going to help them?"
"Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor."
Ignoring younger-Ron's yelling in the back of his head, Ron tried again: "Yes, and I get it Hermione, it's awful, but... look, we can maybe talk more about this later, but not eating is - it's just going to harm you?" Thinking hard, he added, "In fact, it might even...offend the house elves? Because...they'd just think you're rejecting their...work?" And now Younger-Ron had switched to giving him the silent treatment, but, one problem at a time... Please let this be what gets her to listen, he prayed internally.
Unfortunately, Hermione was never one to give up so easily. "Oh, right. Because you actually care, Ron," Hermione snapped, scowling, and now with her arms crossed. "We both know otherwise. You just want me to be silent and complacent." She emphasized the last word, dragging it out.
"No- that's not it at all-" he found himself saying desperately- "in fact, I want to have a long chat with you about this later!" Bollocks, what was he saying?!
Hermione stared at him with suspicion. "You're sure? Because I'll hold you to this, Ron, you'd better not try to get out of this or say stupid excuses."
"I'm sure," Ron said, quickly.
Hermione glared at him, and then, picking up her fork, said, "Fine. Right after dinner, in the Library, tomorrow. Don't be late."
Meeting Hermione in the library...agreeing to have a nice, long discussion on house elf rights with an angry 14-year-old Hermione... probably needing to study for this, too... What had he just got himself into? Ron swore he heard his younger-self laughing in his head.
Oh, sod off, you. All that came back was an obnoxious, How can I, we're in the same head! Then Ron had to scream. Well, scream internally, but still.
At least Hermione had started eating again, that was a win, right? Bloody hell, why did Harry's talent for getting into messes have to rub off on him as well... He tried to distract himself by digging into the feast, but it only helped so much.
When the puddings were gone, and Dumbledore began his speech, Ron immediately asked younger-Ron to take control.
The response shot back was, Oh, now you want me in control? That's funny, I don't remember that being the case just a few moments ago!
Oh, god, he really should have seen this coming. Look, he's going to start talking about the Triwizard Tournament...and then Crouch Jr.-disguised-as-Moody is going to come in... You saw how I reacted just to his empty seat - AND when I messed up and blurted things about the Tournament that I wasn't supposed to know... We can't risk it. I am asking you, for both our sakes, can you please take over?
FINE! But you'd better be the one studying for that library meeting, and not me. I'm not the one who agreed to it... and don't forget, you promised to do some of my homework.
Ron sighed internally. Remember, one problem at a time, he thought to himself privately. To his younger self, he sent out, Thank you. Now let's switch.
Ron sat in the backseat and tried to doze off, just knowing that it wouldn't do them any good if he was there to suffer listening and watching to what came next. He ended up in daydream mode, which was...rather interesting, when you were basically...just a soul, and mind, floating around in the mindscape? Ron wasn't sure how to describe it. It was possible, he suddenly realised, that no one had ever experienced this before. Too bad Hermione's not here, the thought popped up, she'd be fascinated, probably insist on documenting everything. God, he missed her... a sharp ache grew.
Focus, he scolded himself, moping around isn't going to do anything. Why not use this time to... work on strategies?
...What felt like an eternity later, and over a dozen possible strategies agonized over, Ron found that he was nowhere closer to a solid, thorough plan, or even a plan that was actually viable. Ron was so frustrated, that he couldn't help but think, privately, that it really was a good thing that he'd convinced his younger self to take over, or else the Great Hall might not have been looking so 'great' anymore...since he had now been driven to imagining just casting an Incendio onto fake-Moody (sitting right over there), and making a run for it.
I mean, it's as good as any other plan I could think up...which means, it's completely terrible... Yes, Ron was feeling grumpy and unpleasant now. If he couldn't sulk in the imagined space of his mind, then where could he?
Merlin, he hoped that this would be over soon, and Dumbledore would just send them off to their dorms already, because he didn't think he could take much more of these teenagers stupidly gossiping about how they planned on sneaking past the line and putting their names into the Cup or how they were going to win those piles of gold or whatever... Didn't they even hear about the mounting death tolls? About why the Tournament was cancelled in the first place?
Honestly, sometimes it really was true that Hermione was the only one of us with any sense... Harry and I probably wouldn't have even survived without her there, he privately thought, almost laughing at the terrible black humor.
Oh thank fuck, finally Dumbledore was telling them to go off to bed... Ron couldn't fucking wait to fall into bed and not think at ALL for the next, oh, eight, no, eleven hours - oh, and Fred and George were coming with them and continuing to talk about entering the Tournament underage, bloody hell - great, I really needed that, that is exactly what I needed...
Once again, Ron reminded himself to be grateful that younger-Ron was in charge at the time, or else there might have been property damage committed right then. And that would definitely make it harder to, say, stop a war before it starts... So, Ron distracted himself by imagining various vaguely insulting things to write in his next letter to Malfoy - in other words, a relaxing activity.
Finally, after Neville fell in a step, George announced the password, and then Hermione said good-bye, they had reached their dorms. Ron didn't even bother changing into pajamas, he was so eager to get into bed, and then - he felt his younger self mentally reaching out.
Oh, great. Well, best get this over with. Sighing, Ron sent out, What is it?
Okay, well... - was it just his imagination, or did younger-Ron seem strangely hesitant? - you know how you told me about what happens with the Tournament, and how Harry gets picked because Crouch messed with the Cup, and... all that happens after?
Yes... deciding to be careful, Ron sent out a, Is there... something you want to ask me about?
Well...it's just that...since I already knew about Moody - or, Crouch, really - and all that stuff Dumbledore was saying about the Tournament... I sort of... listened to some of what you were making plans about... and, well... the message seemed to end here.
Ron felt surprised, but only for a moment. His younger self was right, he had already told younger-Ron more than anything Dumbledore was saying right then. And Ron hadn't been making certain to think the plans privately, so it was possible that younger-Ron could eavesdrop. He sent, again, And so what you wanted to ask me now was...?
A few moments later, nervously came back, If Harry's in so much danger, then...why aren't we doing anything to stop the Goblet from selecting him in the first place?
I thought of that, Ron sent back. This next part was hard to say, but... But then I realised that I never actually learnt exactly how Crouch Jr. tampered with the Goblet in the first place. So, if I tried to mess with it as well, that might only make it worse. Then I definitely wouldn't know how to fix it, or even know what to warn Harry about. Besides, even if I could stop the Goblet from picking Harry, as long as Crouch is a free man, Harry's still in danger, and Vol- You-Know-Who could still be brought back. Also, Cedric - and possibly also Fleur and Viktor - are still in danger from the foul play of this tournament, as well.
That...makes sense, I guess... Sounds like...you really thought about this a lot.
Yeah, I did. This was... is, a really important year. For Harry, for Cedric... for all of us, really.
Silence. Then came back, ...Yeah.
So, can we go to bed now? You may have noticed, but I'm really looking forward to just being knocked out for the next several hours. Unless you have any other questions-
Quickly, came, No, I'm fine. You're right, let's go to bed.
And, at last, luck seemed to be on his side, because they soon fell into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.
Yup, that's Chapter 5! I honestly didn't realize it would get this big, but, the muse gets ideas of its own I guess!
Again: It may take some time for Chapter 6 to come up - especially since final exams are coming up. Just a reminder.
As always: Please review if you can, and let me know what you think.